Hero, Standing Alone
by icy roses
Summary: At the end, Luke stands, remembering his promise and trying to make good on it for a family that no longer exists. What he remembers, as he falls. Luke/Thalia, Percy/Annabeth.


**A/N: This contains serious TLO spoilers, so if you haven't read it yet, turn back now. Otherwise, enjoy! Disclaimers all around, naturally. It's all Rick Riordan's stuff, the genius. :-)**

The darkness is overbearing. He can't see anything, but he can _feel_ his arms and legs moving. In his hand, he holds a sword. It's familiar, but it's not Backbiter. It's Kronos' scythe, and he's reminded once again that Luke is gone. He is only Kronos now.

But if he's Kronos, then why does he still feel like himself? Why does he remember Luke? Why can he think of himself as a separate entity? He suddenly wants to pull himself away from Kronos' control, take back his limbs for his own use. He can't, of course.

It's the blindness that annoys him the most. It almost drives him mad. He would do anything to catch a glimpse of color again. He blinks furiously, but to no avail. The world is drenched in endless black.

He brings his arm hard down on someone. He can't see who it is. He can only feel his mouth moving, sneering, saying something derisive. He wonders if Kronos is fighting Percy now. Luke can't decide whether he wants Percy to win. Not as if it matters. Either way, Luke's body will be destroyed. And the sad thing is, he almost wants it to happen as soon as possible. At least then, he would be free.

A voice pierces through the silence he's gotten so used to. "Family, Luke. You promised." The words are cracked, as if the person speaking them can hardly force a sound, much less sentences. And in a flash of dread, he realizes who is speaking to him. His eyes snap open—for real this time—and Annabeth is sprawled helplessly at his feet. Her arm is in a strange angle, and he winces, because he probably did that to her.

He's hardly aware of saying her name, and when he does, his knees buckle and he falls forward. "You're bleeding," he says inanely. All he can see is blood. And the arm. Her good arm holds the bronze dagger he gave her so many years ago.

He half-smiles, and his vision fades again. The girl before him is far too mature and grown-up to be Annabeth. Her eyes are dark with seriousness, and pain crinkles around her mouth. That's not how he likes to remember her. What he remembers is a sprightly seven-year-old who fought her way out of crates and almost smashed his skull with a hammer. Her hair was curlier then, her smile brighter.

For a moment, Kronos is relegated to a far corner of the body, and Luke takes over once more. His mind is spinning, spinning, shooting memories from the days long gone. Those days were better ones. He is content to immerse himself in them. To feel the warmth, even here, at the end of the world.

OoooOOOOoooO

"Aren't you a bit young to be running away?" the girl with cropped black hair asks him, her hip cocked out.

He laughs out loud. He can't imagine her being any older than him, and when he demands her age, he's right. They're the same.

"You don't know my mom," she mutters as they sit under the oak tree in the park, sharing secrets, and watching the other children play in carefree ignorance. "Stupid woman would drink herself into sickness, and I used to lie in bed and listen to her puking her guts out in the bathroom." The girl named Thalia makes a face. "I can't deal with it any more. She won't even notice I'm gone anyway." She doesn't cry, doesn't sound sorry. Her electric blue eyes are narrowed in determination.

Luke decides he likes her. She has gumption and spirit. He doesn't like apologetic people. Perhaps because he doesn't like apologizing himself.

"So why are you leaving home?" Thalia pipes up.

"None of your business," he shoots back and is immediately sorry, which is unlike him. But he imagines the green glow in his mother's eyes and shudders. May Castellan won't be shaking him awake at night, spewing prophecies and horrible fates at him anymore. It's worth it, he thinks to himself. Even if she gets up in the morning and notices he's gone, even if she weeps. It's worth it. "I don't want to talk about it," he offers curtly by way of explanation.

Thalia isn't offended and nods. "Okay. I can deal with that." She holds out a hand with black fingernail polish.

He stares at it. "What?"

"Let's go together," she says, as if it's a radical idea. "It'll be like an epic movie adventure, starring you and me. Who needs our parents anyway? Parents suck."

Her comparison is funny; he never would've thought his life like a movie. He laughs and takes her hand. They shake on it firmly. "Let's do it."

OoooOOOOoooO

The little girl naps on the train, exhausted. Her golden curls fly in every which direction. Luke sits back and puts his legs up on the opposite side and watches Thalia wipe a smudge of dirt off Annabeth's nose. "You've got to be kidding me," she says to him, her tone skeptical.

He turns up his palms. "What are you talking about?"

She jabs a finger at the sleeping child. "She's _seven._"

"She's a smart cookie. She told us what we are. Isn't that good? Now we know we're not crazy when these monsters attack." He grins at her. "Demigods, who would've known? Isn't it cool to be related to the gods?"

"No. The only thing I know is that our parents doubly suck. If they're gods, we should be living in palaces, drinking out of golden cups. Instead, we're scraping our money together to take this Amtrak to the East Coast. I can't believe this." She collapses into her seat, crosses her arms, and stares hard out the window, watching the world fly by.

Luke sidles over next to her, and gently pushes Annabeth to the side, so he can squeeze in between the two girls. "It's not Annabeth's fault," he whispers as so not to wake her. "Why are you mad at her?"

"I'm not mad at her," Thalia says, turning toward him, and for the first time, he sees the shine of fear reflected in her gaze. "We're just kids, Luke. We can't take care of her. I don't know the first thing about raising children. She needs parents."

That's the last thing he expected her to say. "I thought you hated parents."

"Yeah, I hate _our _parents. That's different."

"And she hates her parents," he counters. "Do you really think she'd be better off with them? Would you be better off with your mom right now?"

She cuffs him in the shoulder. "That's not even funny to think about. Don't bring it up."

"See?" He takes her hand tentatively, and he sees that the nail polish is chipped. "We can't leave her on the side of the road. She's a good girl. How hard can it be? We definitely know how _not_ to raise a kid, based on the crappy job our moms did. We can do it. Believe me?"

Reluctantly, she meets his eyes. "I want to," she answers.

He grins. "Happy Families."

Thalia looks at him like he's crazy. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know, this stupid card game my mom got from England when she studied abroad in college. We can be a happy family. I promised the kid, anyway."

"You would make a stupid promise like that. How are you going to keep it? The monsters are going to chase us up and down the country. And you're dragging her along with us."

Luke shrugs it off. If they left the girl, monsters would be chasing her anyway.

Thalia is pouting, and Luke teases her. He points at her, then at himself, and finally at the slumbering Annabeth. "Mom, Dad, baby. It's perfect. A family, voila!"

She makes pretend barfing noises. "You're ridiculous," she says, but she smiling. "And we'd be the most dysfunctional family on the face of the planet."

"I'm okay with that." He is. They might be only twelve years old, but as far as he can tell, this is the best family he's ever been a part of.

OoooOOOOoooO

He blinks, and the older, bloodier Annabeth is in front of him again. He keeps thinking about how Thalia isn't there. She should've been. He frowns, and then recalls in the dusty corners of his brain that she chose to join the Hunters last year, and his stomach drops. He didn't know why he felt so angry and upset when he found out. It was like a door he never knew was open had suddenly closed.

The anchor that kept his anger at least partly in check had loosened, leaving him floating.

He wonders if Thalia remembers the good old days as clearly as he does.

Annabeth is broken, and Luke can feel the anger bubbling up inside uncontrollably. It shouldn't be like this. He promised her everything would be okay. Thalia, he thinks furiously, she gave up on us. _She gave up on the family. It's not my fault._ He convinces himself if Thalia were there, everything would be okay. Everything would be better.

He knows it's a lie, but he keeps repeating it anyway. If Thalia were here at this moment, he would drop everything, just to go back to the way things were. He tried, last summer, but it didn't work out the way he'd planned. Because…

Percy snatches Annabeth's knife from the ground and dashes between the two of them. He growls, "Don't touch her," and Luke falters, takes a step back.

Percy, he thinks with a ripple of grief. Luke glances at Annabeth, partly hidden behind Percy, and knows the little girl he once knew no longer looks up to him as the hero, the role model, the one who could always make things right. Instead, she's staring at Percy's back, willing the son of Poseidon to defeat Kronos.

He chokes a little, and another memory swims across his vision.

OoooOOOOoooO

Annabeth steps out of her house, her face white. "Luke? What are you…" She can't even complete her thought coherently. She's taller than the last time he saw her, when he made her hold up the sky. He cringes. Her screams still haunt his nightmares.

He holds up his hands. "I just want to talk." Sweat beads on his forehead. He can't hide his nervousness.

"What?" she asks suspiciously, and the loss of her trust is probably what hurts the most, even though it's obvious to both of them she has no reason to believe a word he says.

He thinks about how he could broach the topic, and instead, it all comes out in a rush, no introduction, no warning. "Kronos is going to use my body to house his spirit. As a stepping stone." He says it in such a flat way, it almost doesn't sound painful.

She takes a step back. "Are you serious?"

He nods, not trusting his ability to speak.

She puts her hands on her hips, the way Thalia used to do, and it triggers an ache in his heart. "And you're just going to let him do that?" Her anger takes him by surprise; he expected maybe shock, pity, but not disapproval. He wants to say it isn't his choice, but that's a downright lie.

"I came to talk to you," he says, stepping closer, "because I wanted to know if you would put your faith in me again."

Her gray eyes light up, and she opens her mouth. He doesn't know what she was going to say, because just as quickly, she looks down and blurts out, "No. Not this time." Her hands twist anxiously in front of her.

"Annabeth, I don't want to do this. I won't, if you come with me. Please? We can run away, travel the country, like we did back then." Except Thalia wouldn't be there. The only one left is Annabeth. She was the glue that kept the Happy Family together. He has a wild, foolish hope that hanging on to Annabeth can bring back the glory days. That's all he wants.

"Luke, I—" She looks up at him, and her eyes are brimming with tears. He doesn't know whether that means a "yes" or a "no." She pulls him into a hug. She's so tall now the top of her head comes up to his chin. She used to stand at his armpit, and when he measured her height, she'd giggle and stand on tiptoe to look taller.

His heart feels considerably lighter. Maybe, if he can get Annabeth to come with him, just maybe, Thalia would come back too.

Except—"I can't."

"What?" he says, thunderstruck.

"I can't go with you."

"Why?" his voice comes out strangled. She's sentencing him to Kronos. His eyes sting.

She stares him square in the face. "You know why. If you want to come with me, then join our side again, and we can fight back the Titans. As it is, you're being a coward. How do I even know you're not trying to trick me?"

"Annabeth, it's me," he protests.

"Exactly." She has the steely look that says there's no way he's going to change her mind.

He takes a quavering breath and tries not to feel too crushed. "And is that the only reason? You think I'm pulling a fast one on you?"

Her voice reduces to a whisper. "You left me on Mount Tam to die. What is that supposed to tell me? The only reason I'm alive today is because…" She doesn't finish.

"Right," he says harshly. "Fine. Well, if you think I'm such a bad guy, then maybe you should finish me off now while you have the chance. Because when you see me again, I'll be gone. And it'll be your fault."

He hears a stifled sob behind him as he stalks away, and he can't believe both Annabeth and Thalia have abandoned him.

OoooOOOOoooO

The River Styx looks dirty. It has an amazing assortment of junk flowing through it. "This is supposed to make me invincible?" he says in distaste. Ethan Nakamura, son of Nemesis, stands at his side.

"Do it already," Ethan says. "This place gives me the creeps."

The ghost of Achilles floats out from behind as Luke expected. Before he can even speak, Luke cuts in, "Yeah, I know what you're going to say. Blah blah, this isn't a wise choice, there are other ways, my weaknesses are going to be increased…you got anything else?"

Achilles isn't even fazed. "In order to survive, you must concentrate on what makes you mortal, otherwise, the river will incinerate you. Pick a point, and remember it. Every man must have a weak spot. And remember, you may become invincible, but it is called a 'curse' for a reason!" He disappears.

Luke rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Let's get this over with." He decides on a spot on his left side, under his arm, to be his weak spot. Easy to defend, a difficult target, it seems reasonable. He holds his breath and walks stoically into the river. Immediately, his body liquidates, and he collapses into the current, sinks under the surface.

He can't see. The pain is excruciating, like being roasted alive. Every fiber of his body hurts. He can't concentrate on anything, much less the part of his body that's supposed to be his weakness. It's terrible. The worst thing he's ever felt by far. He wishes for death. Anything would be an improvement over this.

And then, he sees Thalia and Annabeth standing on the raised platform of a playground set. He looks up and notices that he's clinging onto monkey bars. "Come on, Luke!" Annabeth calls out, her face split by a wide smile. "I can climb faster than you can!"

"Yeah, Luke," says Thalia with a smirk. "You're so lame. You're gonna let an eight-year-old beat you?" She checks the watch on her wrist. "Time's a-tickin', buddy."

He summons his strength and crosses the monkey bars with ease, into a tumble of joy, while Annabeth tickles him, and Thalia laughs at their antics.

He bursts out of the river. "Ow," he says and sees his skin flaming red. As he pants on the shore, he can't help but feel a tiny bit disappointed it was all a vision. He would've given anything for it to be real. He stands up and brushes himself off as his skin fades back to a normal, skin-like color. "To Kronos we go," he says finally and pushes the last remnants of two smiling girls to the back of his head.

OoooOOOOoooO

The pain jars Luke out of his memory. His hands are bleeding, pulsing, blistering right before his eyes. He drops the scythe, even though he can't remember picking it up. He is helpless. He casts about. Annabeth is still lying on the ground, and Percy kneels in front of her, clutching the bronze knife, his knuckles white.

Luke's body starts to glow, and it feels as if his skin is melting off. Kronos is about to morph out of Luke's form. In other words, Luke is about to die.

In a flash of panic, he realizes he isn't needed anymore. Not by Kronos, who would've discarded him much sooner if it were possible. Not by Thalia, who gave up on him a long time ago when she joined the Hunters. And not by Annabeth, who has grown up and suddenly found a new hero.

He can't really blame them. He lost hope, and he left the girls first. He sees Percy struggling to stand. Luke almost feels a little bit jealous, because the younger boy fought on against all odds. He never gave up. And Luke knows Percy will not give up now, not on Annabeth, not on the gods, not on the scrap of good that's left in the world. It's bravery almost to the point of naïveté, and Luke can't help but admire him begrudgingly.

And so, the words come unbidden from Luke's mouth because he knows he has just this one last chance to prove to his family that he can make things right before it's too late. "Please, Percy." The pleading tastes sour on his tongue, but it's necessary. He needs the knife. Only he knows his weakness. Only he can end the horror he started. Percy pushes onwards, grimacing. Luke knows Percy would like nothing more than to kill him. "You can't…can't do it yourself. He'll break my control. He'll defend himself. I know where. I can…can keep him controlled," Luke says haltingly.

Percy stares at him in disbelief. Luke thinks wryly, he isn't going to do it. _He's going to destroy us all. He wouldn't think otherwise. He's always been able to save the world by himself up until now._

"No time," Luke croaks in a last ditch effort. He watches as Percy moistens his lips and looks back, toward Annabeth lying senselessly on the ground, and the fire in his green eyes burns stronger. That's where we're different, Luke thinks. _He'll do what's necessary to save his friends, even give up his role as the hero. Would I?_ He doesn't have a chance to answer his own question, because Percy puts the knife into his outstretched hand, and the expression on the younger demigod's face says, "I trust you. Do what's right."

Luke is almost disappointed by this, because he wants to believe Percy isn't truly that selfless. But he is. Of course, he is. The kid has to best him at everything, after all. Luke unlatches his armor and exposes his weak spot. The knife and his arm are as heavy as lead, and he struggles to lift them. He is unbelievably exhausted. Kronos is gaining power. Luke feels dizzy. Come on, he screams inside his head.

He thinks of Thalia knocking him down the side of Mount Tam. He thinks of Annabeth, crying as she held up the sky. And he stabs.

Pain blooms from that spot and overwhelms him. He shrieks, falls, and Kronos' spirit explodes from his body like an atomic bomb. He hits the ground and barely feels the impact. "Good…blade," he manages to say.

His vision gets fuzzy, but he can make out Percy, Annabeth, and Grover creeping to his side. He tries to focus on Annabeth. "You knew. I almost killed you, but you knew." She knew he was still inside somewhere. She did trust him, in the end. The glue that held us together, he thinks vaguely. She's more beautiful than ever, even torn up the way she is.

"You were a hero at the end. You'll go to Elysium," she assures him shakily. It sounds good, but it's not what he really wants. He'd be alone in Elysium. And he'd have no one to wait for.

"Think…rebirth. Try for three times. Isles of the Blest." Yes, that sounds like the better plan. Maybe, his second life will help right the wrongs of the first. Maybe, his second life will be happier. And maybe, his second life will bring another family. Because it's time to let go of the first.

He holds up his hand, and Annabeth puts hers up against it. It's not that chubby baby hand he remembers, but he pretends it is. He pretends Thalia's kneeling there too. He can allow himself this small comfort before he dies. "Did you…did you love me?" he coughs out.

"There was a time I thought…well I thought…" She stops and glances sidelong at Percy, who is staring at her like she's the most glorious thing he's ever seen. And she is, undoubtedly. Percy better not ever forget it, Luke thinks.

Luke doesn't hear what Annabeth has to say next. He's preoccupied by the alarming rate his senses are deteriorating. His death is barreling toward him. His fingers twitch as he tries to grab onto something, a foolish impulse in an attempt to keep him connected to the mortal world. He doesn't really know if he wants to stay grounded. After all, everything's changed, and he can't hold onto it no matter how hard he tries. But he thinks that maybe he's leaving the world, and that precocious little girl, in good hands. He thinks that maybe he can trust Percy, like Percy trusted him, the little twit.

With his last remaining strength, he grabs Percy's sleeve and looks directly into his eyes. "Ethan. Me. All the unclaimed. Don't let it…"—he swallows—"don't let it happen again." Family, he thinks desperately, we all needed family.

"I won't," Percy says solemnly. "I promise."

Luke's mind wanders back to the promise he made to the girls, the one he failed to keep. Yet, even as his surroundings fade, he allows himself to believe Percy might be better at keeping promises than he is.

His breath rattles, and he knows. This is it. In the end, he stood alone because he pushed everyone away. But at least, at the very least, he wouldn't be dying alone. He pulls up one last memory to keep him company as his soul lifts away.

OoooOOOOoooO

"_Come on," Thalia commands. Annabeth sits on Luke's shoulder. "Faster, horsey, faster!" the little girl says with glee._

_Luke starts to run. The hill crests, and the three of them can see the valley below. "This is awesome," Thalia murmurs. "I like Indiana." Luke puts Annabeth down._

_They scramble down the hill, holding hands in a three-person chain. It's a monster-free day for once, and as the wind blows on his face, Luke feels like he's flying._

_And maybe he is. _

_Maybe that's what flying is all about._

**A/N: Reviews are much appreciated. Thank you to everyone who has read "Heritage" as well. I love you all!**


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